


The Like Rodney Campaign

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Foxtrot [113]
Category: Dollhouse, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: AU, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, steamy sex dreams make for awkward interaction the next day."</p><p>The Imprints wage a campaign against the other Imprints to get them to Like Rodney.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Like Rodney Campaign

Having a couple dozen different people in one body was awkward in all kinds of ways, the least of which was them acting as a constant peanut gallery when John was engaged in Serious Military Business. When he'd realized how he felt for Rodney, there had been mixed reactions, some strongly encouraging, some indifferent, some a little discouraging, because - and John could be honest with himself - sometimes Rodney was irritating as hell.   
  
But he was also hot as hell, and some of the imprints didn't care about personalities as much as they cared about _skill in bed_ , and the imprints who did like Rodney set about on an aggressive campaign to convince the other imprints to also like Rodney (at least a little, for John's sake, because didn't John deserve to be happy?).  
  
John had not expected the Like Rodney campaign to be so...pornographic, to say the least. It was like being a teenager all over again, except worse, because a good number of the imprints had been created for romantic engagements, and their fantasies about Rodney went above and beyond.  
  
John dreamed about tying Rodney down to his bed, blindfolding him, licking every inch of him, and then riding him till they both screamed.  
  
John dreamed about Rodney tying him down and doing the same.  
  
John dreamed about standing behind Rodney while Rodney played the piano and sliding his hands under Rodney's clothes, stroking and caressing and trying to get Rodney's hands to falter on the keys.  
  
John dreamed about being stripped naked and blindfolded and left standing in the middle of the room while Rodney kissed his way down John's body - just lips and breath, no hands - until John was so aroused he'd scream.  
  
John dreamed of holding hands with Rodney, trading kisses when no one was looking, cuddling on the bed, making out during a terrible movie borrowed from the archivist.  
  
John dreamed of wild sex to hand-holding to strictly intellectual debates about string theory and everything in between, night after night after night, and some of the imprints were coming around, sure, but it was getting awfully difficult to look Rodney in the eye.  
  
"Are you angry at Rodney?" Teyla asked.  
  
"Nope," John said, even though he'd pretty much left the commissary as soon as Rodney entered. Rodney, engrossed in something on his datapad, hadn't noticed a thing.  
  
"What did McKay do now?" Ronon asked, after John fled from a conversation with Rodney.  
  
"Nothing," John said, because Rodney really hadn't done anything. But the way Rodney had licked his lips had sent several of the imprints into recounting the fantasies they'd been discussing the night before (fantasies that translated into dreams for John, and was it possible for a guy to run dry, after so many wet dreams in a row? Because seriously).  
  
"Have I done something to irritate you?" Rodney asked, which was damn perceptive of him, but they were in the middle of a staff meeting, and John couldn't just walk away.  
  
"No," he said. "Just not sleeping well."


End file.
